


Mission Compromised

by kaylaber1



Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: Alan is having a heart attack, Crushes, Edgar isn't helping, Fluff, M/M, sam is oblivious, silly teen romances, this is ridiculously cheesy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-04-27 04:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14417967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylaber1/pseuds/kaylaber1
Summary: What's the protocol for when a cute blonde walks into your comic book store and completely turns your whole world around?





	1. Frog Log Entry no. 127

August 10th, 1987

Our Mission has been compromised. It's disheartening, coming right off of the victory of July 31st, but a Frog must be prepared for anything- including the possibility that when put in a life or death situation with someone close, one may find themselves experiencing a plethora of new and unwelcome emotions. Such a thing might not be so unwelcome, had the person in question not been a male client (who still owes the Frog Bros. Supernatural Disposal Services approx. $300 for Vampire removal.) I cannot stress enough how wildly inappropriate this is for a professional practice.

As it were, all future transactions to be made with one Samuel Emerson will be carried out by my brother, fellow slayer, and close confidant, Edgar Frog. Meanwhile, I will be taking great lengths to avoid interactions with the Emersons until this affliction has passed. It's in the best interest of the ongoing mission of Frog Bros. Disposal Services, however, I can't help but feel a bit saddened by this decision. Sam Emerson has the makings of a fine vampire hunter. In another life, maybe we could have been friends. ~~Maybe we could have been something more  
~~

It's come to my attention that I might not be in the proper state of mind to be writing this entry. I will be handing over Log entries to Edgar as well. I think it's best I cut this entry short, lest I say something else I might regret

\- Alan Frog


	2. The Fallout

Removing himself wasn't working. He thought that after things had gone back to normal for him, Sam would just go on about his life ignoring him and Edgar the same way the rest of the world did. After all, nobody ever spoke to them unless they needed something. But Sam showed up in the aisles of the comic shop every afternoon without fail. So Alan had confined himself to the stockroom, cataloging the back issues that his parents had put off for decades. Although it seemed that he couldn't even find reprieve in the dusty copies of Batman and the Incredible Hulk. Every few issues he'd stumble upon something that would remind him of the way Sam smiled when thumbing through the comics, making his own adjustments to their organizational system, or how excited he got when he found something new on their shelves, or the way he looked when he shot that blood-sucker through the chest. Just when he thought that the situation couldn't get any worse, the blonde incubus himself pushed through the beaded curtain, turning Alan's head without even trying.

"Hey bro. Edgar told me you've been hiding out back here the last couple days." Sam said warmly, taking in the room around him, blissfully unaware of how he was making it at least 10 degrees hotter.

"Uh.. Yeah. There's a lot of inventory to go through. I've really got my work cut out for me, so if you could just-"

"Help you out?" Sam interjected with a smile that made Alan's heart climb further into his throat. He took the stack of comics from Alan's arms. "Sure thing. Where do I start?"

"W-well you see I kind of have it handled." Alan stuttered, attempting desperately to maintain his image as an intimidating slayer of monsters.

"Yeah right, man, there's gotta be at least 45 boxes in here, and you've been at this for 3 days. I've got nothing better to do. Let me give you a hand." Sam insisted. "Besides, maybe I can work off some of my debt."

With pursed lips, Alan considered the offer. Sure, Sam was kidding about that last part, but it wasn't a bad idea. And he DID need to get this done at some point. He could justify this, he supposed.

"Alright then, Sam. You've got yourself a deal. You help get this cleared out by Monday, and we'll waive your debt." He said sternly, adding comic books to the stack in Sam's arms.

"Monday?! It's already Friday!" Sam whined.

"Well then we better start now, don't you think?"

He quickly got to work, showing Sam the ropes and letting him off on his own once he was certain that Sam wouldn't make any fatal errors. Working in tandem had always been Alan's preference, which was probably why they'd put off the back room for so long. With just the twins on their own, one of them would have had to stay up front to man the store while their parents were stoned out of their minds, but with Sam lending a hand, they could work twice as fast.

Or rather, they _should_ be able to work twice as fast. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, as Alan found himself constantly distracted. Every time he began to immerse himself in the work he'd catch a glimpse of Sam out of the corner of his eye, nose wrinkled in concentration, and he'd be transfixed. This was worse than he thought.

"So. What do you like to do around here?" Sam asked, startling him out of his thoughts. 

"What?"

"Ya know. What's fun? Where are all the cool hangout spots?" Sam explained. "I'm still new in town, a-and we haven't really hung out much outside of....you know."

Every panic alarm was going off in Alan's head. Sam just asked him to hang out. Outside of the comic shop. In a non professional setting. What did it mean?

".....Alan? You okay, buddy?"

"Yes!" Alan said all too eagerly. He quickly backtracked as fast as he could. "I uh. Yeah. I don't get a break from the store often, but there are few places on the boardwalk that are pretty cool. I could take you sometime?"

"Yeah! That'd be great! I gotta get you guys out of here more often." Sam said with a teasing smile.

Of course. Of COURSE Sam had meant both of them. Why would he be asking him on a date? That was just stupid. Alan felt his face flush with embarrassment.

"Yeah." He agreed, turning back to the boxes. There was no way they were gonna finish in time. Alan should have known better than to let Sam distract him, and now he was going to be stuck with Sam in this store room. Alone. For the next 2 days. He'd really stepped in it now. Alan made yet another mental note to start thinking with his brain instead of his dick.


	3. Frog Log Entry No. 128

August 14th, 1987

Alan's given the log over to me, on the condition that I only write new entries and do not refer back to the older ones. He's hiding something. I know it. He's a terrible liar. But I agreed to his conditions, so I'll have to find out the old fashioned way.

I don't know what sort of thing he writes in here. Whenever I ask he just says "field notes". Since I'm not allowed to flip through the pages and see what kind of notes he's taking, I'll just take a few "field notes" of my own.

Alan's been hiding in the back room the last 4 days. He never does that. Not only is it suspicious, but leaving me to handle the store alone is just plain unfair. Especially when that blonde airhead with the good shooting hand shows up and starts asking me things.

Speaking of said airhead, evidently my brother has struck up a deal with him to waive his debt should they clean out the stockroom by monday. He didn't even ask me first. I'd rather have the money, but I seriously doubt that they'll be able to sort through that many comics in 2 days anyway, so it's just free labor.

It gets lonely at the storefront.

-Edgar Frog 


	4. Breakdowns and Breakfast

"Holy shit." Alan whispered, brushing back the beaded curtain to the back room on Sunday morning. He nearly dropped his coffee at the sight that greeted him.

The stockroom was completely cleaned. The boxes emptied and broken down, the comics they contained now sitting in neat little rows in the storefront. The floors had even been mopped and swept. In the center of it all on one of the room's rusty folding chairs sat Sam, chewing bubblegum and reading a Batman comic. He looked up from his book, meeting Alan's slack-jawed stare with a bright smile.

"Morning Alan!"

"H-How did you.... I walked you out last night! I haven’t even unlocked the doors yet!" He stuttered, panicked thoughts running through his mind so fast that he couldn't keep up with them.

"Oh that? You didn't lock the back door. I just waited until you had left and snuck back in." Sam explained with a shrug. 

"So you've been here all night?!" Alan asked, voice raising as his panic mounted. "Are you insane?! Have you slept?! Eaten?! Does your family even know where you are?!"

Sam wilted, sinking into his oversized suit jacket, excited smile fading to a look of guilt. "Well, no... but I thought that if I went ahead and finished early that we could have time to do something fun." He sighed. "I-I'm sorry Alan. I didn't mean to upset you. I'll just go, okay?"

Guilt pooled in Alan's gut as Sam brushed past him, heading for the door. The guy had spent all night cleaning up HIS storeroom, hadn't slept, hadn't even had breakfast, and here he was yelling at him for it. He took off after Sam, catching him by his wrist at the door. Sam turned to him, big blue eyes brimming with tears, and Alan's heart sank. Shit. He'd really fucked up this time. Why did he always say the worst things at the worst possible moment?

"Hey, I-I-I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have raised my voice. Are you okay?"

"Yeah.. I'm sorry I'm just tired." Sam said shakily, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his coat.

"I bet." Alan agreed. "Look, how about you and I go get breakfast and let Ed open the store?"

"Are you sure?"

"Am I.....dude you just stayed up all night cleaning my stockroom just so that we could hang out. Taking you to breakfast is like, the _least_ I can possibly do."

Sam smiled at this, his light chuckle brightening the whole room. Alan watched him almost in disbelief at how someone could be so goddamned beautiful. It was then that he realized with a start that his hand was still encircling Sam's wrist. He pulled it back like it had burned him. In a way, it kinda had. The electric, burning, tingling sensation that had lit up beneath his skin where they had made contact was a foreign and frightening feeling.

"How's the Moonlight Diner sound to you?" Alan suggested in an attempt to distract Sam from what had just transpired. It didn't work. Sam rubbed gently at his wrist where Alan's hand had been, looking at him with a startled gaze. When he opens his mouth, Alan's sure he's going to be chastised for it.

"Isn't that pretty far?" He asks instead. Alan breathed a small sigh of relief.

"We can take my bike." Alan said. "That is, if you're okay with riding on my handlebars."

"Alright, but no sudden stops!"

"I wouldn't dream of it. Not with precious cargo on board."

Fuck. He didn't know why he'd said that. But Alan's worry melted away when Sam gave him a smile, the slightest bit of color rising to his cheeks. Maybe he should say dumb things like that more often. They left the shop, leaving a note for Edgar on the countertop, heading off with Sam perched on his handlebars and Alan making very sure to pedal very carefully.

When they got to the diner, they took the booth in the corner, Star insisting upon serving them herself. Alan was still suspicious of her and Michael- to tell the truth, all 3 of them were- but still, she was nice enough and he didn't want to make a scene. Besides, anyone can change. She came back with a mug of coffee for him and an orange juice for Sam. Alan reached for a creamer cup, and without thinking about the present company, bit a small hole in the bottom of it, shooting it in his mug in a small jet stream.

"Hey that's pretty cool!" Sam exclaimed, the look on his face could only be described as pure wonder. "Can I try?"

"Uh...sure?" Alan said, wondering how Sam could find such amusement in something so simple. He handed Sam a creamer cup, placed his mug in the middle of the table, and watched Sam's face light up in delight as he fired a stream of creamer into Alan's coffee.

"If you boys are done acting like animals in the middle of my restaurant, I can take your orders." Star's voice came from behind him, teasing, but firm.

"Aw, chill out Star." Sam said. "We're just having a little fun."

"Fun for you, maybe, but I'm the one who's gotta clean up the mess." She replied with a smile. "Now you want a chocolate chip waffle, right Sammy?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"And for you?" She turned to Alan

"Uh...the same I guess."

Star sauntered off, taking their orders back to the kitchen and leaving Alan thoroughly confused. He gestured vaguely in the direction of where she had disappeared.

"What was that?" He asked Sam, eyebrow raised.

"Mike drags me here all the time." Sam says with a shrug. "Sometimes it's the only way I can get him to give me a ride to the comic store."

"That makes sense." Alan nods, taking a swig of his now over-creamed coffee. "Why do you spend so much time there anyway?"

"I like it there. I like comics, and I like that you guys will let me sit and read as much as I want and" Sam looked up, suddenly meeting Alan's eyes. "I like you."

Alan nearly choked on his coffee. Sam kept spending all that time at the shop....for him? He liked him? Alan could feel his cheeks growing hot. He was...less than good at this.

"Really?" He asked breathlessly. 

"Well yeah! You and Edgar are like, my best friends." Sam explained with a bright smile. Alan's heart plummeted. "You're also like. My only friends."

"Why don't you just go out and make new friends?" Alan huffed, gaze shifting to look out the window. 

"I dunno. I guess I just don't think anyone would get me the way you guys do. The things we've seen..." Sam trailed off. Abruptly, he reached across the table, grabbing Alan's wrist. "Hey, you're not gonna vanish on me again, are you?"

The tingley, burny sensation was back. Alan's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest as Sam's blue eyes searched his for answers. He swallowed thickly, composing himself before replying.

"No. No I'm not." He said decisively.

"Promise?" Sam moved to grab Alan's hand, squeezing it insistently.

"I promise." Alan squeezed back, in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture.

So, his plan to avoid Sam until he could think rationally around him was a failure. Deep down, he kinda figured it would be. Sam was far too nosey to avoid and Alan wasn't strong enough to push him away. As much as he shouldn't, he wanted this, and it was so hard to refuse when Sam made it so easy. Across the table from him, Sam yawned, taking his hand back to cover his mouth as he did so.

"You're gonna go get some sleep when I take you home, right?" Alan insisted more than asked.

"What are you, my mom?" Sam chuckled sleepily.

Alan flashed him a glare in response. He debates taking him home right then and there, but then realizes that their food hasn't come yet. He promised the boy breakfast, and breakfast he would get. Besides, he couldn't develop a reputation for walking out on his tabs. Eventually, their food arrives, and Alan wastes little time in shoveling over half of it in his mouth in one go. Across from him, Sam's been pouring syrup onto his waffle for an exuberantly long period of time, and now it sat swimming in its own personal syrup pool. Chewing around an entire half a waffle, Alan raised an eyebrow at him. Sam looked back at him with something between disgust and dawning horror.

"Where were you raised? A _barn_?!" Sam yelped, finally putting the syrup back.

"Where were _you_ raised?! Willy Wonka's chocolate factory?!" He counters, equal amount of horror in his tone

".....touche." Sam says, cutting into his monstrosity of a breakfast.

They don't say anything else, both disgusted, yet amused by each other. Alan foots the bill, despite Sam's protests, and denies the blonde's request to 'at least leave the tip', however he's sure he saw Sam slip a few extra dollars in Star's apron pocket on their way out. Sam hopped back on his handlebars and Alan pedaled him home, delivering him to his almost hysterical mother.

"You didn't even think to _call_ me? I was up all night worried sick about you, Sam! You scared me half to death!" Lucy balked, pulling Sam into a crushing hug.

Alan felt...intensely uncomfortable. He'd never seen anyone that worked up about their kids, although he supposed it made sense. Hadn't he subjected Sam to the same treatment only hours ago? Lucy was better at keeping her voice down than he was, though. Panicking, raging, but never raising her volume. Alan turned his gaze to the ground, drawing circles in the dirt with the toe of his shoe.

"I'm sorry mom.... I didn't think-"

"No, I don't think you did. You're grounded for the next two weeks, mister. That means no comics, no music, and no going out without a chaperone."

Wait, what? 2 weeks? With no Sam? Well.... it's what he'd wanted, right? Time to clear his head. Get his thoughts together. Move forward. Then why was he so upset right now? Alan didn't have time to evaluate that. He had to say something if he wanted to reverse this situation.

"Wait, Ms. Emerson, it's not his fault." Alan interrupted. He stopped, confidence waning as the attention is shifted to him. "I asked him to help me out with something at the shop, and we got carried away. I should have thought to call you, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Sam just looked at him wide-eyed over his mother's shoulder. Lucy didn't seem to know what to say either. It's not like she and Alan often get to talk. In fact, he could count the number of times that they had on one hand. She blinks a few times before turning back to Sam.

"Is that true?"

Sam nodded quickly, not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Well, Alan, thank you for letting him stay the night, but I really would appreciate a phone call next time. You know how dangerous it is to go out after dark here."

"Yes ma'am." He said quickly

She turned back to Sam, anger back in her eyes. "We'll talk about this later, young man. For now, just go to your room."

Sam wasted no time in doing what he's told, giving Alan a slight wave before darting into the house. He didn't know if coming to Sam's defense had worked or not, but he supposed he'd find out over the next two weeks. Lucy collapsed into the wicker chair with a tired sigh, putting her head in her hands. Alan turned to leave, but stopped at the last second, turning back and approaching the porch. Sheepishly, he put a hand over her shoulder. Startled a bit, she jumped, whipping her head up to look at him.

"Uhm. Ms. Emerson? Can you make sure Sam gets to bed? He didn't sleep well last night and I'm worried about him." He stuttered out.

"....Sure honey." She says with a smile. "Now run along home before you have _your_ mother worried."

Alan's brow furrowed in confusion. "That wouldn't happen." He blurts. But he does as he's told and pedals off back to the store, hoping that he'll see Sam again before two weeks have gone by.


	5. Frog Log Entry No. 129

August 16th, 1987

We opened 3 hours late today. I got to work and the door was locked, the stockroom was freaking spotless, and Alan left a note saying that he took Sam to breakfast and would be back later. This has gone beyond 'Something fishy'. Alan's never put off opening the store for anything. This is now a serious problem. I'm just gonna come right out and say it; I think my brother has a thing for the airhead.

It's not that I'm against Alan dating, I just don't think that bubbly bitch knows what he's getting himself into here, and if he's careless with my brother, I'm going to kick his ass into the next millennium. I'm keeping an eye on the situation best I can for right now. Alan won't talk about it, so I'm really fucking limited here. Every time I bring it up, the little bastard just changes the subject. He won't even tell me what the fuck he was doing for 3 hours instead of opening the store. Alan doesn't keep secrets from me. I'm gonna have a word with that Emerson kid.

At least the stockroom is clean.

-Edgar Frog.


End file.
